“Her Days” (County Wicklow, Ireland. 1985)
Pencil, pastels, watercolor
April 2020
“……In courtesy I’d have her chiefly learned;
Hearts are not had as a gift but hearts are earned
By those that are not entirely beautiful;
Yet many, that have played the fool
For beauty’s very self, has charm made wise,
And many a poor man that has roved,
Loved and thought himself beloved,
From a glad kindness cannot take his eyes….”
(from “A Prayer for My Daughter”; Wm. Butler Yeats, 1919).
I spent a lot of my Summers, during my twenties, in Ireland. Most of my work was in Galway and the Western Islands, so I did, indeed, see many beautiful places, and I have many fine memories of the times spent there. I’ve never been back since then, though….all the friends I knew are dead (no marked tragedy, since they were in their fifties and sixties thirty years ago, but still sad in its way). One friend, taking a tip from Colm Toibin, did leave Ireland…moved to Barcelona and is still, last I heard, whooping it up, as best he can at age 80-something, on the Placa Real.